I awoke to the sharp, insistent blare of the alarm clock piercing the early morning silence. Still nestled beneath the warm covers, I stretched my arms overhead, feeling the pleasant pull in my muscles, then rubbed the sleep from my eyes with the heels of my palms. With a deep yawn, I pushed myself upright and gathered my long, dark hair, twisting it neatly into a ponytail and securing it with a simple hair tie. Today, I needed to rise earlier than usual. The Madrid family’s children were scheduled to return to the country the following day, and Mrs. Amalia and I had been tasked with thoroughly cleaning the entire mansion in preparation for their arrival. From a young age, I had learned to stand on my own two feet. My father suffered from a chronic heart condition, and I was determined to ease the weight he carried through life. I had never known my mother; she passed away shortly after giving birth to me, or so my father had always said. With no other relatives living nearby, it h
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